


Life along Hadrian's Wall

by blktauna



Series: Dirty Knights [1]
Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multi, OT3, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1643879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blktauna/pseuds/blktauna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Movieverse. Shenanigans and smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Early On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> teasing Galahad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post these mainly on Tumblr and on my site so there'll probably be lag.

Tristan watched them carefully, noting how they occupied each other's space with ease and familiarity. It wasn't in him to be possessive, but it was in him to be greedy. He knew they got up to each other and it didn't bother him, but it did whisper the prospect of a possibility of something. Something they'd all three like very much.

"Come on thundercoud, you know you can't do it." 

He stood to watch Galahad try and upend Gawain into the dirt of the horse ring. Gawain was laughing as Galahad tried to grab him by the neck. Gawain swept his foot from underneath him and brought them both to the ground. Arms and legs were everywhere along with Galahad's irritated growls and Gawain's sorting cackles. Tristan made his way down the bleachers to squat nearby. 

"Having fun?" 

Gawain laughed again as he pinned Galahad beneath him, head ducking for a swift nip on his neck. Galahad made a combination nervous shriek and choked sob as Gawain's lips began to work on him. 

"Come on oaf, you're embarrassing the boy. But don't worry, no one is in here but us and here comes Lancelot…" 

Gawain howled as Galahad's elbow connected solidly with his ear as he scrambled away to Tristan's laughter. 

\----- 

end 2013 


	2. Sneak Attack in the Caldarium

Tristan picked at the braids still in Gawain's hair with the end of a strigilis. They were the only two to retain their tribal braids; everyone else had cut their hair in the Roman fashion, or in the case of Bors and Dagonet, off altogether. 

"Why don't you two get rid of all that?" Galahad sniped as he fidgeted on the bench. 

Tristan chuckled softly, pulling Gawain closer. He eyed the boy and was watched in return. Galahad hated to be left out of anything and Tristan could see him trying to figure out a way to join them. As if he needed to actually think of something and not just get close enough for them to grab. 

"You whine like a woman, Galahad. My glorious hair puts you to shame," Gawain boasted, shaking out his long blond hair. 

"Shut up," Galahad pouted, chewing his lip as he inched closer. 

"I think, Tristan, he is jealous." 

"Of this mess?" Tristan snorted, the flicker of a smile passing over his lips. He gave a sharp yank and undid the last of the braids, then began to run his fingers through it. Gawain elbowed him sharply, then moaned as Tristan burrowed into the mass of blond waves and began to massage his scalp.. 

"Of our manly manes. He's still shorn like a little lad." 

Gawain grinned evilly as he settled into Tristan's arms, lazily toying with Tristan's knee as they reclined. 

"And he dresses like a Roman," he continued, "For all that he talks about home, there he sits, his legs exposed in some short Roman skirt and wearing his short Roman hair, like a Roman." 

Tristan leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing against Gawain's ear, stopping the tirade for a moment while Gawain's breathing hitched. Galahad jumped up scowling, his fists clenching and unclenching as he watched the two of them. He flushed at the sight of Gawain's eyes closing as Tristan's lips moved along his ear. 

"I'm not a Roman!" Galahad shouted. 

"You just like looking at his legs, Gawain," Tristan teased burying his nose into Gawain's hair. He smelled of horse and blood and Gawain. 

Galahad was scarlet as he watched them. Part of it could be attributed to the heat of the caldarium but most of it not. He felt awkward enough around Tristan and Gawain at the best of times, now he didn't know where to let his eyes rest. 

"It's distracting, that little Roman skirt. I keep imagining my cock between those toothsome thighs of his. Why are you even dressed? I know you aren't afraid of my cock. Come here," Gawain motioned for Galahad to come close but he remained rooted to the spot. 

Gawain didn't like Galahad in the Roman gear as it more effectively hid the boy's arousal, but Tristan didn't need to see it to know it was there. And judging by the darker red he was turning, he was deeply aroused. Why the lad was even still dressed was beyond him. They'd had him individually, and he was more than enthusiastic about the sex, but he still shied away from them together. 

"No wonder you got that spear in the side. You're too busy looking at Galahad's legs and not paying sufficient attention to your own neck." 

"That's what I have you two for." Gawain smirked and slid his hands along Tristan's thighs. 

"It's a good thing I'm not so easily distracted, eh?" Tristan purred, teeth gently worrying along Gawain's jaw. 

"Depends on what you're doing." 

"How about this?" 

Tristan gripped Gawain's hip and twisted him slightly, so their lips could meet. Gawain growled into Tristan's mouth and flattened him onto the bench, turning to slot himself between Tristan's legs and rub up against his thigh. They kissed hungrily, moving against one another with easy familiarity. Tristan wound his fingers into the thick, veil of Gawain's hair, holding him in place as they plundered each other's mouths. While they were of a height, he was whipcord, where Gawain was dense muscle. Tristan liked the feel of that in his arms. He trailed his toes up the back of Gawain's calf as he splayed himself open a bit to better fit Gawain's bulk on the somewhat narrow caldarium bench. 

"Where's the oil... you feel too goood..." Gawain groaned as he reached blindly around the floor for the dish. 

Tristan turned his head as Galahad made a kind of whimpering bleat. The boy's eyes were as round as the moon and glued brightly to them. Tristan held his hand out. but Galahad remained where he was. 

"What are you doing, Tristan?" Gawain didn't stop rubbing but turned to look. "Oh, look at him. Why are you just watching, Galahad?" 

Tristan chuckled and gave Gawain a good slap on the arse, getting him a loud groan from both men. He liked the look in Galahad's eye. Now was the moment to get him between them. Then they could both savour those muscular thighs. 

"Romans watch, boy. Men take the invitation they're given," Tristan's gaze bored into him. 

Galahad fidgeted, chewing his lip. His attention waivered between Gawain's rutting and Tristan's extended hand. Gawain moaned again, now lost to his own pleasure, and Galahad's face fell. He bolted out of the caldarium and back into the changing room. Tristan grabbed a handful of Gawain's locks and gave his head a shake. 

"Get up you oaf." 

Gawain moaned and rolled his hips "Not done you bastard..." 

Tristan hissed as a bolt of pleasure hit him. He did so like how Gawain felt but they'd worked toward this for some time and he was feeling greedy. 

"The rabbit has bolted. I'm going to fetch him back. There's more room in the pool." 

Gawain bit his shoulder in annoyance but raised himself enough to let Tristan get up. 

"I hate blue balls. So hurry up." 

Tristan snorted and pulled him into a kiss. 

"Just get the big dish." 

Gawain hooted and rolled off the bench onto the floor. Tristan trotted out to the changing room, eyes open for Galahad. He heard the sobbing before he spotted the boy hiding behind the door. He shook his head and reached for him. He smiled when the lad slapped his hand away. 

"I'm tired of waiting, Galahad." 

"Fuck you." 

"No lad, we'll be fucking you. Now hurry up. Gawain's got a head start." 

"No." 

Tristan seized him by the curls and dragged him close, dodging the boy's swing. He wrapped Galahad in his arms and kissed him soundly. He continued to kiss him until his struggling slowed. 

"Don't be afraid. We've been looking forward to this." 

Tristan rubbed his fingers in Galahad's curls and smiled, giving them little tugs. Galahad groaned and clutched at him, seemingly in spite of himself. Tristan laughed and gave him a clout on the ear. He dodged the attempted return and seized the boy's arm, pulling him up onto his shoulder like a sack. 

"I hope you found the big dish. He's full of energy." Tristan called back into the caldarium. 

"When isn't he?" 

Gawain was floating in the hot pool, cock in hand, his hair spread around him in tendrils like a halo. Tristan smiled slightly at the sight, then tossed Galahad into the pool, right on top of him. 

"You fucking Bastard!" Gawain shouted as both men thrashed about. 

"My parents were properly wed, Gawain. And if you don't grab the prize I won't be fucking nor will you." 

Never needing to be told anything twice, Gawain seized a sputtering Galahad and shoved his tongue down the boy's throat. Galahad flailed a bit before Gawain's skill had him melting against the blond's chest. 

"Now isn't that better?" he said as Gawain tried to inhale the boy at one go. "Well, relatively better. Let him breathe, you randy oaf." 

Gawain let go of the kiss, allowing Galahad to groan and sag against him. 

"Why didn't you undress him?" 

"I know how much you like doing it, and I'm busy." 

Tristan dipped his hand in the warm oil, letting it drip suggestively from his fingers onto his cock. Both Gawain and Galahad were now paying him the fullest of attention, so he took firm hold of himself and began to slowly stroke. Gawain licked his lips and began to wrestle Galahad out of his tunic without his gaze wavering from Tristan's now slicked up, and obviously ready, cock. 

"Come on boy, Can't you see Gawain is eager?" Tristan teased, running his thumb under the crown. 

Galahad stilled, jaw hanging open, thus allowing Gawain to finally get the tunic over his head. He flung it aside and started in on the subligaculum. Tristan slipped into the hot water, still stroking himself, and sprawled on the ledge. He dipped his other hand in the oil and beckoned Galahad closer with dripping fingers. Gawain hooted again and flung Galahad's sodden subligaculum out of the pool. He wrapped himself around the lad, sucking marks into his shoulder and slowly walking him closer to Tristan. 

"I don't understand," 

Galahad whined. His breathing had gone ragged and he didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt overwhelmed and extremely aroused but apprehensive. This whole thing struck terror into him simply because he wanted it so badly. He was afraid of disappointing them, afraid of showing them his weakness, afraid of maybe always wanting it like this. 

"What don't you understand?" 

Gawain had brought him close enough to touch, so Tristan slid his oil slick hand over the lad's belly and enjoyed his gasping moan. 

"Why?... Why both?" 

Gawain laughed, giving Galahad a swat on his pert buttock and reached over him to get his own handful of oil. 

"Because it will feel so good," he growled, slathering himself with more of the slippery stuff. 

"And because you belong to us already." 

Tristan wrapped his fingers around Galahad's cock and tugged him forward. He hummed happily as the boy just crumpled into his arms. He shifted Galahad onto his chest, kissing along his throat as Gawain moved in to sandwich the boy between them. He could feel Gawain's hands, all slick and impatient, getting oil all over everyone and everything in his haste. 

"Calm down, we've got him now." 

"Fuck you. I've been waiting forever for this." 

Gawain wiped his hands on his hair and nestled in behind Galahad, arms wrapping around his waist. He slid his cock under the rounded globes of Galahad's arse and let it slip easily into the space behind his balls. 

"Gods but this is as good as I'd imagined..." He gasped out as he seized Tristan by the hair and shoved his tongue into his mouth. 

Galahad whined and wriggled but Tristan shifted his hips and wrapped his long legs around his and Gawain's, pinning them tightly. He held Galahad fast against his torso, their slick cocks pressed close. 

"Shit someone move... please someone move..." Galahad moaned, unable to do anything but be rocked gently back and forth. 

They ignored him. 

Galahad could feel every panting breath make his and Tristan's cocks rub against one another. It was glorious and completely not enough. He tried rolling his hips until Gawain gave him a clout on the arse. He and Tristan were still enmeshed in each other's mouths, but mercifully Tristan wound his fingers into the boy's hair and Gawain slowly began to thrust. 

"Yes... fuck... come on Gawain you bastard... yes..." Galahad wailed, pushing back with every thrust. 

They'd done it like this before, he and Gawain, but the solid feel of Tristan holding him, controlling him, was new and delicious. Gawain was greedy of his own pleasure, but Tristan was greedy of his partner's. Their mouths had finally parted and Gawain was mumbling endearments and obscenities into his shoulder while rutting feverishly between his legs. Tristan took possession of his mouth and began to reduce him to nothing but gibbering sensation. 

"Let him breathe, Tristan. He can't fuck if he's dead." 

Tristan used his grip on Galahad's curls to crack the boy's skull against Gawain's. Gawain cackled madly then moaned as Tristan pushed up. Their slick bodies shifted and Tristan's cock slid from resting against Galahad's belly to slot in between his thighs. When he thrust in, Gawain could feel Tristan's hard flesh rub along his own and howled in delight. 

"Come on you shit, move. Now it's better than I imagined!" 

Water began to splash everywhere as both Tristan and Gawain began to move in earnest. Both of them moaned, biting at Galahad's shoulders and neck. Tristan, still gripping his hair, pulled Galahad's head to the side to lick and bite. He crossed his ankles and stretched his long legs as much as he could, forcing Galahad's thighs to press even more tightly together. Gawain howled, bucking up wildly. 

"Gawain, If you come, we'll fuck you in turn," Tristan teased. 

Gawain laughed, but Galahad sobbed. He was so close now he wanted to cry. Tristan's tongue was all over him, licking, tasting, teasing. Gawain's teeth held the back of his neck as his cock rubbed relentlessly against Galahad's tight balls. His own cock was pressed into the slick, wet fur of Tristan's belly by his and Gawain's combined weight. Each rough shift sent a wild thrill of pleasure through him. 

"I can't... I can't..." 

He shuddered between them, coming hard. Tristan stilled, holding him, but Gawain was too far gone to stop. He gave two more thrusts and came with a shout. They balanced like that for a moment until Gawan slid backwards with a satisfied grunt and let himself go under the water. Galahad hissed as Gawain slid off, his skin now over sensitive and hot. He wriggled in Tristans' grip, torn between wanting more and escaping. Tristan decided for him. He let Gawain float away then clamped his legs down, keeping his place between Galahad's thighs. 

"My turn," he purred. 

He undulated slowly, mindful of Galahad's cries. He kept his cock lower, not against Galahad's spent balls, and let him cling, panting and begging for more. 

"More is it?" he chuckled, stroking Galahad's wet curls. 

"Please... please..." 

Tristan kissed him delicately this time, soothing him. They moved slowly, easily, their slick flesh caressing them into pleasure. It was so different than just one or the other. Tristan would just toy with him, for ages, not letting him come for three or four times until he clawed and bit, practically forcing it out of him. Gawain would fuck like a man possessed then fall asleep, worn out from his own efforts. But together... The two of them together was more than he could comprehend. 

"That's it my beauty, hold me close." 

Tristan's voice crawled along his nerves like honey, sluggish and sweet. His hands slid down Galahad's back to gently palm his arse cheeks, his long fingers kneading gently with every roll of his hips. Galahad wound his arms around Tristan's neck and groaned. He couldn't stop himself from panting and his eyes seemed so wet. His body was ringing from his orgasm but he couldn't stop moving against Tristan. 

"Yes... yes...yes..." 

Galahad was sobbing again. Tristan licked the tears away as Galahad moved with him. 

"Is it too much, mm?" 

"No. no. I ... I need..." 

"What do you need? mmm?" 

Tristan let his fingers slip between the firm globes of Galahad's arse, making his shout and clench. It was just enough to send Tristan over the edge. He groaned in surprise as he spilled himself against Galahad's hot flesh. 

They clung to each other then, savouring the buzz in their blood, no sounds but their slowing breaths and the even lap of the water on the tiles. Tristan stroked Galahad's hair and nibbled along his neck, enjoying the taste of his skin. He uncrossed his ankles and stretched, freeing Galahad from the clamp of his thighs. Galahad crumbled against him. 

"Shhhh my beauty... shhh." 

Tritan petted him gently, stroking his hair and face, whispering nonsense into his skin. He could have remained like this for some time longer but for Gawain's sudden splashing and swearing. Tristan rolled his eyes and kissed Galahad on the forehead. 

"You fell asleep." 

"Fuck you Tristan. I pulled out a stitch." he wailed flailing upright, water flying every which way. 

Galahad chuckled watching him flail about and uncurled himself from Tristan's grasp. He ducked under the water to clean off all the oil and come, relishing the heat on his tired muscles. When he emerged Tristan was inspecting Gawain's side and slapping him on the head. 

"Seriously, Gawain? You risked a week's healing?" 

"Fuck you, it was worth it." 

"Agreed, but how are we supposed to hide this from Arthur, oaf?" 

"Oh, shut up and help me out." 

It took both Tristan and Galahad to get him out and he seemed reluctant to let either of them go once they had. He latched onto Galahad like a limpet while Tristan steered them towards the towels. 

"Gawain are you ok?" Galahad asked. 

Gawain just pulled him into a desperate kiss and leaned heavily against him. Tristan swooped in with a towel and wrapped Gawain up. He smoothed the masses of hair from his face and touched their foreheads together. 

"Galahad, help me get him back to his quarters. He's got the biggest bed. We should all fit in that one." 

And if they didn't fit, they'd make do with the floor. He wasn't about the be without either of them again. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	3. Tie me to Your Broken Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain wants something from Tristan who is only happy to oblige.

Gawain cackled as Galahad's throw missed the board entirely and he fell over. The knife embedded itself into the ceiling and Gawain nearly slid off his bench with laughter. 

"Bastard..." Galahad burbled as he swiped the air near where he thought Gawain was sitting. "You're drunk!" Gawain snorted, waving his own cup unsteadily. 

Galahad crumpled back to the floor, waving his fist erratically. Gawain smiled at the girl still wrapped around him and shrugged. She rolled her eyes and slipped away for greener pastures. 

"Come on you. Time for bed." Gawain bent over and poked his friend in the chest. He hefted Galahad up with some difficulty, as he was also well into his cups and any grace he may have had was long since fled. It wasn't entirely accidental, though, that Gawain's hands landed on Galahad's arse under the guise of steadying him. 

"You're randy..." Galahad snickered he flopped bonelessly against Gawain's broad chest. 

"Too bad for me. You've chased off the barmaid and you're going to be out cold before I get you to bed," Gawain whispered, flicking his tongue over the rim of Galahad's ear. 

"That's never stopped you before," Galahad teased. 

"It's not my fault you inflame me to lust." 

Galahad smiled drunkenly, seemingly pleased with himself, then proceeded to pass out in Gawain's arms. 

"It's a good thing you're cute," he grumbled as he hoisted his friend up onto his shoulder. 

\--- 

Gawain only fell against the wall of the bath house once as he made their way back to the barracks. He caught himself with one hand on the wall, managing to remain upright and not drop his burden. His thoughts were happy as he remembered the last time he and Tristan and Galahad had been there together. He'd have to convince Tristan to do that again. It has been more fun than he'd had in awhile and he wanted another go, Maybe he could be in the middle this time. He shivered at the thought. As he caught his breath against the wall he steadied a sliding Galahad on his shoulder and ran his hand up the back of Galahad's exposed leg. He started to giggle. The lad really did have nice legs and he teased with them mercilessly in that short, Roman skirt. It was a shame he was out cold and even more of a shame Tristan was nowhere to be found, because he was indeed randy. 

"I'll make do, though, you little pest..." He chuckled as he staggered onward, towards their room. 

He pushed open the door with Galahad's head, giggling as he had to whack quite hard to get it open. When no semblance of consciousness was apparent, he just sighed and shuffled in, dumping Galahad on the bed. He landed like a sack, making Gawain laugh even more. 

"You'll kill me when you wake up, won't you?" 

He smiled to himself as he manhandled Galahad onto his back then snuck a grope up under the edge of his subligaculum. He'd have to properly have a taste of that someday, but they'd need to be very alone before he'd try it. The boy was still squirrley about some things between men. Still, he judged it would be worth the try. 

"Gawain..." 

Gawain gasped and turned at the unexpected sound. He had his knife out in moments, but Tristan was already next to him, arms wrapped around his waist and hand on his wrist. 

"Boo." he whispered as he held Gawain close, prising the knife from his hand and resheathing it. 

"Don't do that..." Gawain panted. His heart was still pounding with the urge to fight, although other ideas were fast coming into his mind. 

"Don't do what? Scare you?" 

Gawain sighed as Tristan's breath ghosted over his ear. Maybe he would get lucky after all. He slid his hand over Tristan's arm, gently winding their fingers together. 

"Asshole." 

He let Tristan huff in laughter before twisting his hand just so, shifting them both around. Tristan laughed and moved with him, sending them both crashing to the ground. The wrestled silently for a few moments, each taking the measure of the other, breathing harsh and shallow. Gawain tried to get a fistfull of Tristain's braids but missed. His wrist was seized in a powerful grip and slammed down over his head. He sighed and bucked up against his friend, his blood up and wanting. 

"So it's to be wrestling, is it?" Tristan purred. 

He took hold of Gawain's other wrist and placed it on top of the other. Gawain chewed his lip and stared into Tristan's eyes, swallowing nervously. He wished he hadn't got his mind on this track but he had and there it was and now he wanted a taste of Tristan as well. 

"Might be. Or might be something else." 

Gawain swiped his tongue over his lips, curling it a bit before dragging it back behind his teeth. Tristan's nostrils flared, even though he seemed to make no other acknowledgement of having noticed the offer. Gawain focused on his eyes and did it again, only more slowly. He was pleased to see his friend's eyes narrow slightly. Gawain just smiled and pushed his hips up, his tongue snaking out and wiggling. This time it was Tristan who gasped as he straddled Gawain's waist. 

"What are you doing, oaf?" his grip tightened on Gawain's wrists. 

Gawain undulated, making Tristan shift forward onto his chest. They both exhaled sharply. 

"Offering." 

Tristan stroked Gawain's hair as he rocked slowly on his friend's chest. 

"Offering what?" 

Gawain felt flush, guilty, but he was drunk enough to ignore it. He let his mouth fall open, chin rising slightly. his tongue snaked out, the tip dancing over his lower lip. Tristan's fingers tightened in his hair. 

"Hold me down..." Gawain breathed. "And give me a taste." 

He trembled when the words left his mouth. Before this, they'd been equal. They wouldn't be if Tristan gave him what he wanted. He realised he didn't care about that. He only cared that he got what he wanted. 

"Do you know what you ask?" 

Gawain undulated again, shifting Tristan even farther up. He twisted his head enough to rub his cheek along the inside of Tristan's thigh, biting lightly through the rough wool of his trousers. He could smell Tristan now and he was just as aroused as Gawain. 

"You want it as much as I do." 

Tristan never bothered with the girls in the tavern. For a long time Gawain thought he was secretly a holy man. That was until they were alone on patrol one time in the winter and sharing their blankets had turned into something far more heated and pleasurable. From then until now they'd indulged in each other frequently, but only in acceptable ways. Gawain wanted the unacceptable this time. 

"You're right." 

Tristan stood abruptly, pulling Gawain up by his wrists and hair. He was half dragged, half shoved onto Tristan's bed as Tristan climbed on top of him. He'd kept hold of Gawain's wrist and yanked it above his head as they squirmed on the bed. They kissed hungrily, as Tristan's fingers busily worked at his trousers and Gawain pried open his belt. He flung it aside and got his hand in between the layers of Tristan's kaftans, sighing at the warmth of his flesh and the comfort of the thick fur of his chest. He wound his fingers in and yanked, earning him a growl. 

"Hurry up." 

"Greedy oaf. Hands not enough now?" Tristan stood again, toeing out of his boots and letting his trousers drop. 

"Not for a long time, Tristan..." 

Gawain slid himself down the bed, arms stretched above him. He eyed Tristan's lithe body as he emerged from his clothes and smacked his lips. He knew every scar that decorated it, he'd even been responsible for a few of them. He'd felt every dip and ridge over the years, but now, now he wanted to taste them. He'd let Roman sensibility turn him away from what he wanted for too long. That was going to stop. Tristan understood pleasure and had very few prohibitions on how he achieved it. Gawain felt safe with him. Safe enough to ask for something that his Roman overlords thought degrading and unmanly. Gawain agreed with them on very little in this area, and especially not on this particular point. 

"Cross your wrists," Tristan growled. 

Gawain squirmed, his excitement mounting. He eagerly crossed his wrists and waited. Tristan's eyes glittered and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His smile grew as he climbed over Gawain's chest holding his discarded belt. He leaned over to lash him firmly to the bedframe, keeping his cock just out of reach . Gawain got his mouth on Tristan's flat belly as he pulled the belt tight. He swirled his tongue through the coarse dark hair there, sighing happily. 

"You _are_ eager, oaf." 

Tristan finished securing him then sat back on his heels, just out of Gawain's reach. 

"But I want to feel you first, before you try to kill me with bliss." 

Gawain laughed, easing the tension somewhat. Tristan had agreed so he needed only be a bit patient. If he tried to drag it out too long he'd just break the bedframe and Tristan would have no one to blame but himself. 

"Compliments already?" 

Tristan licked his lips as he ran his hands up Gawain's thickly muscled torso. He grinned evilly and yanked aside Gawain's clothes, exposing him to the air. His long, delicate fingers danced over heated skin to gently rub Gawain's nipples. It made Gawain's breath catch. 

"You should know by now, oaf, I can't keep my hands off you. You've been learning how to tease from Galahad, haven't you?" he pinched lightly, making Gawain hiss and wriggle under him. "I have to leave camp some nights so I don't defile you in front of everyone..." 

Tristan bent his head to mouth along Gawain's collarbone. Gawain growled as his skin heated up further. He wished he'd stripped before they started as he couldn't feel Tristan's skin against his own and he very much wanted to. He whined and pushed his hips up, catching Tristan off balance. By habit their bellies nestled together, both of them sighing as they felt the familiar friction. 

"You can defile me wherever you want. I'll kill whoever dares speakkkk..." his reply was choked off as Tristan's mouth slid down, over the plane of his chest to nip at the flesh. 

He was also beginning to regret asking Tristan to hold him down. He was hard as a rock and desperate for something more than teasing bites, no matter how good they felt. 

"So much talk, oaf," Tristan chuckled. He sucked viciously on Gawain's nipple, relishing his howl. 

"Bastard!" he shouted, every nerve now alight, all his drunken langour gone. "Shut me up then..." 

Tristan's lips pulled back in one of his rare smiles. It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time, promising everything if you were willing to pay his price. Gawain would happily pay anything right now. Tristan laughed and obliged him. He seized Gawain by the hair and held his head down while he slid up close enough to rub his cock over Gawain's mouth. Gawain moaned, his knees sliding up so he could try to push Tristan farther forward, tongue snaking out to try to reach the head. He was drooling and not even remotely embarrassed by that. With a sharp laugh, Tristan pitched his hips forward and stuffed his cock fully into Gawain's mouth. 

Gawain was sure his moan could have been heard over the whole of the camp and he didn't care. Tristan's taste was dense and salty and everything he'd hoped for. He sucked greedily, careful of his teeth, enjoying the thickness and taste of him as Tristan slowly rocked in and out. He slurped happily, ignoring his own need for the pleasure of finally having Tristan right where he wanted. His nostrils flared wide, so he could breathe around what he was eagerly swallowing. In spite of himself he strained against his bonds and Tristan's hands in a frantic effort to consume Tristan whole. 

"So good, oaf. So good," Tristan groaned, "Good enough that I don't ever want to let you up." 

Gawain moaned, arching up in want simply because of Tristan's words. He looked up through his lashes to the sight of Tristan, head thrown back, chest heaving with the effort of maintaining some sort of control. Gawain wanted to break that. He inhaled deeply and swallowed, letting his throat work along Tristan's length. He went hot all over as Tristan growled and stuffed himself even further down Gawain's throat. Gawain choked but kept swallowing, eyes watering as he finally made Tristan lose control. He cried out, hips slamming forward as he came down Gawain's throat. He pulled Gawain's head up by the hair as he shook with the ferocity of his orgasm. It quickly became too much and he pulled away, panting as Gawain gasped and coughed. He laughed and descended onto Gawain's face, licking up all the spit and come, stroking his neck gently and murmuring nonsense. Licking became kissing and Tristan's tongue fucked into Gawain's mouth as furiously as his cock had. Gawain whined as he wound his legs around Tristan's hips and rutted up. 

"Get these off me, please... I want to feel you... please," he rasped, voice ruined. 

Tristan's smile was all teeth as Gawain yanked at his bonds. 

"No." 

Tristan licked Gawain's neck, nipping and sucking red marks as he worked his way down. Gawain sobbed roughly as his thighs tightened around Tristan's waist, desperately trying to rub off on him. 

"No, dearest oaf. I'm not done with you yet. You should know by now I like to take my time." 

Gawain swore as Tristan slithered from between his thighs and slipped from the bed. 

"Be still," Tristan whispered. 

Gawain stilled. He rubbed one hand along Gawain's belly, smiling at how he quivered under his hand. 

"Yes, that's it. Be still for me. I want this to last," he purred, teeth bared in one of his predatory grins. 

Gawain sobbed but tried desperately to get hold of himself. He was shaking, every nerve tingling. If Tristan kept that tone of command he might just come unaided. He squeesed his eyes shut and tried breathe. Instead of calming him, each breath made his raw throat sting. Each stinging breath made him replay every delicious minute of Tristan's cock in his mouth. He swiped his tongue over his lips and was overwhelmed with Tristan's taste. He felt as though he would break apart any second. 

"I can't... Please... please..." 

Gawain dug his heels into the mattress and pushed his hips up. Tristan pressed his hand down onto Gawain's cock, massaging the hardness beneath his palm. 

"You can. I know you can." 

Gawain, sobbed again as Tristan pulled his hand away. His knees buckled in defeat and he flopped back down whining and rattling the bedframe with his wrists. 

"Shhhhhhh..." 

Tristan leaned down and kissed him thoroughly, his fingers trailing over belly and chest, then finally slipping under the tops of his trousers. Gawain sucked on Tristan's tongue as their kisses grew heated again. When one of their commingled moans lost him Tristan's tongue, his teeth latched onto Tristan's lower lip. At his first nip, Tristan nearly tore his trousers down. 

"Finally you bastard... finally..." Gawain wailed, as Tristan's hot mouth left his and engulfed him. 

There was a sharp sound of cracking wood as Gawain futilely tried to jerk up into Tristan's mouth. Tristan draped himself over Gawain like a blanket, taking away any leverage he tried to muster. Nothing Gawain tried managed to dislodge him. Tristan hummed happily as his tongue worked Gawain into a pleading mess. 

"Come on! Please! Uastyrdzhi take you... Come on!!!" Gawain wailed as he arched off the bed, looking for that last bit that would send him over the edge. 

Tristan shoved him flat, taking him down to the root in one swallow. There was another crack of wood straining as Gawain shuddered, coming in ragged gasps. Tristan swallowed greedily, licking and sucking still as a writhing Gawain slowly softened in his mouth. When Tristan finally let go of him Gawain whimpered. 

"Shhhh you greedy pig." 

Gawain half heartedly tried to kick at him. 

"I think I've died." Gawain croaked, "and I may have broken your bed." 

Tristan snorted out a laugh and rubbed his cheek along Gawain's sensitive skin. 

"I take it as a job well done." 

"Beyond well done. More than I'd ever hoped for," Gawain was sobbing a little, as he came down from his high. Relief flooded him knowing they were still equal in things. He felt very lightheaded and perfectly boneless. 

"Shhh oaf. You'll make me cry with you." 

Tristan lay over him, nuzzling along his ear and nipping playfully. They rocked against one another gently, enjoying the closeness. 

"I'll make you cry if you don't let me up." 

"Mmmm I think not. I think I'll leave you like this for when Galahad wakes." 

"You wouldn't." 

"I would." 

"Uastyrdzhi take you, you shit, you would." 

Tristan simply hummed and kept nuzzling into Gawain's hair. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	4. Sorry about the bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Galahad's turn to provide what Gawain wants. He too is more than happy to oblige.

Gawain woke to a mouth full of curls and snoring. He also realised he was still secured to the frame of Tristan's bed and his arms were getting stiff. 

"Oi... get off." 

He desperately hoped it wasn't Lancelot because if it were there would never be enough lifetimes to live this down. He would then have to kill Tristan when he got hold of him again, since it seemed plain the bugger had slipped away once Gawain had passed out and left him as he'd been when they'd finished. He was somewhat relieved when the snoring bundle on his chest shifted slightly. His mouth was no longer full of curls and he could see it was Galahad sleeping on him. A distinct improvement in the situation. Maybe he wouldn't kill Tristan after all. 

"Wake up little thunder cloud. Come on..." 

He undulated, using his hips to bounce Galahad a bit. The lad had put on some bulk and wasn't as easy to move anymore. Gawain just grinned and bumped harder. Galahad just snuffled a bit and shifted into a looser sprawl. 

"Galahad... come on. Let me up." 

"No," came the muffled reply. 

Gawain blinked. 

"What? Are you awake you little shit? Untie me." 

Galahad yawned and rubbed himself wantonly along Gawain's exposed skin. It was in no way an accident. Gawain groaned as little prickles of pleasure started to dance along his nerves. 

"Mmm I am, and I won't." Galahad continued to rub lazily along Gawain's lightly furred belly. "I saw you two last night." 

"What did you see?" Gawain's voice dropped into a purr. 

Maybe the lad wasn't odd about certain things after all. 

"Something I had dreams about." 

Gawain groaned as Galahad's hot, wet mouth began to move along his throat. 

"Dreams? Of what?" 

Gawain chewed on his lip as Galahad's hands slid over his shoulders. They were warm on his skin as they pushed his clothes further out of the way. 

"Doing something very unRoman." 

Gawain's chuckle turned into a moan as Galahad applied his lips back to the heated skin of his neck. The lad's hips were still gently pressing down on him and the tease was getting the desired effect. He could feel his cock growing stiffer with each gentle slide. 

"Are you going to do it or just talk?" 

Galahad snorted and bit Gawain on the soft flesh of his throat. He chuckled at Gawain's strangled moan, then bit him again. This time he soothed the bite with his tongue, making Gawain yank on his bonds. Anticipation was pooling in his belly now, alongside the lust. Tristan was going to get a treat for leaving the lad asleep on top of him. 

"Come on, thundercloud. Come on," Gawain panted, the desire for Galahad boiling up inside him. 

Galahad was bold in the pale light of the morning. He mouthed down over Gawain's chest, tongue flicking lightly over his nipples. 

"I liked what I saw, you know. What Tristan did to you." he looked up at Gawain through the tumble of curls around his face. "Both things..." 

Gawain's breath caught. The little bastard must have been faking when he dragged him in. He was for it now. Galahad's tongue was very wet as it dragged over his belly, his teeth sharp as they nipped at the fur around his cock. He moaned as Galahad's mouth took in the head and sucked gently. 

"Yes... like that... nnnnn" 

Gawain arched up, trying for more. Galahad chuckled and pulled back. 

"Mmm tastes of both Tristan and you. I like it." 

"Bastard.... " Gawain breathed, the wood of the bedframe crunching again when he pulled at his bonds. 

Galahad just laughed as he rubbed his hands over Gawain's thighs and belly. 

"I like you tied up. Now I get to do what I want to you." 

Gawain whined as Galahad's mouth closed over him again. He wriggled until Galahad forced his hips down, sending a terrible thrill through him. It surprised him a bit to realise just how much he liked being held down. These two might tease him over it, but they'd continue to do it for him. At least he hoped so. Galahad's hands gripped his hips, his fingers kneading into his flesh with every bob of his head. 

"Damn you... so good..." he panted as his head thrashed to and fro. 

Galahad let him go with a wet pop. He rubbed the tip of Gawain's cock against against his beard, making him swear and arch. 

"You really are easy." 

"Shut up and keep going!" 

Galahad laughed and swiped his tongue under the crown. Gawain howled and yanked at his bonds. There was a sharp crack and the bed wobbled. Galahad laughed and swallowed him down again. Gawain bounced wildly beneath him. 

"Yes! yes! come on! Give me a good suck you little bastard... " 

The bed broke just as Gawain came. Galahad practically swallowed him whole as Gawain's now freed hands wound into his hair and he howled out in pleasure as they flailed onto the floor in a tangle of limbs. Galahad coughed and sputtered as he pulled away wiping his chin. Gawain just lay there, stunned for a moment, before he started giggling. He reached for Galahad and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. It was harder than he thought as his fingers felt fat and tingly from being tied so long, but he managed. 

"I'm sorry... you ok?" Gawain breathed, gently stroking Galahad's throat. He kissed the tears away that had formed in the corners of his eyes. 

Galahad was laughing and stroking Gawain's hair, clutching at him. They held onto one another for some time, laughter falling away to more kisses. Eventually the chill got the better of Gawain as he reluctantly let Galahad up and got his own clothes together. He wiggled his fingers until all the feeling seemed returned and looked up at Galahad through his lashes. 

"Still your turn..."

Galahad laughed and held his hand out for Gawain to take. "I know. But I think we'd best get moving or they'll come looking for us. I'll collect later." 

They both jumped as someone banged on the door. Gawain hurriedly made himself presentable just as the door flew open. Dagonet's head popped in and with one look he took in the entire scene. He didn't even blink. 

"Oi you two. Get moving," he barked, a small grin lighting his face as his gaze rested on the broken bed. 

Gawain felt his ears go hot as he bent to unwind his belt from the bedstead. 

"Coming..." 

"You already did." Galahad snorted. 

Gawain kicked at him as he ran laughing out of the room. —— 

\-----  
end 2013 


	5. That Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of their last stand.

There were scattered sounds of fighting still, but the smoke from Arthur's traps obscured the farther reaches of the field. It already looked like the doors were open to the otherworld. He forced himself forward to get to Arthur. He just stood for a moment, when it all hit him. 

Bors and Galahad had set Tristan down by Arthur and Lancelot when he blinked and his world tilted. He hadn't thought the bolt got him anywhere bad, but it seemed he'd been wrong. He clutched at Galahad, suddenly light headed, crumbling as the battle fury subsided leaving him empty. 

"Gawain!" 

He couldn't take his eyes from Tristan, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't be gone. How could Tristan be gone? It was making him short of breath, or was that the bolt wound? His knees went to jelly on him and he could feel Galahad's arms wrapping around him as he slid towards the ground. He managed to look up and saw Galahad's worried face just before the creeping black at the edge of his vision took over. 

\-- 

Bors was the one who panicked and that made Galahad feel marginally better about crying in front of his commander. Tears notwithstanding, he had Gawain out of his armour and on his uninjured side in very short order. Bors and Arthur howled for the medics while Galahad got his shirt out of the way. It looked awful. A deep, ragged puncture was never good, and now without their regular doctors, this could lose him Gawain forever. 

"Gawain, you bastard. Stay with me… please stay with me!" 

Gawain was mumbling but it was too soft to hear. Galahad stroked his face and tried to stop the bleeding with his discarded shirt when a stretcher showed up. Galahad couldn't understand the Woads' babble and nearly didn't let them take Gawain away. It was only Arthur's hand on his shoulder that convinced him to let go. 

\-- 

Gawain knew he had to be in the otherworld. The sun was shining and it was warm. Long grass bent in the light breeze, much as he remembered it doing at home. He stood and stretched, every muscle felt wonderful. If this was death, he wouldn't mind going. 

"Oaf!" 

Gawain's breath caught in his throat. He turned to see Tristan running towards him. They met in a tight embrace, neither willing to let go. 

"Isn't Galahad here?" He looked around frantically. "Have you left him on his own? You can't leave the boy there like that." 

"No… no… but what will we do without you? What will I do without you. You dick. Why did you have to come here before us?" 

Gawain was sobbing. He refused to let go of Tristan, his anger warring with his grief. 

"I didn't mean to, oaf. I didn't. But it was bound to happen sooner rather than later." 

"No it wasn't. You left us. You left ME!" 

"Shhhh," Tristan stroked his hair and kissed him. "You can't stay here yet. You have to go back to Galahad. " 

Gawain just quivered against him. 

"Arthur has joined with Merlin, no?" 

Gawain nodded. 

"His magic is great, dearest oaf. Very great." 

Gawain could still feel the gentle touch of Tristan's fingers on his wet cheeks as he gasped back to life. 

\-----  
end 2013 


	6. Trip to Tartarus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Voyage into Tartarus to retrieve Tristan.

Merlin waited for them in the clearing. Gawain still moved sluggishly, occasionally leaning on Galahad when his breath left him. He desperately clutched the small bag of items that he had been commanded to bring. 

"I should do this…" Galahad whispered. 

"No, it has to be me. If we manage to get him back, there might be a price that needs paying. I'll pay whatever it is." 

"I don't want you to." 

They halted on the edge of the clearing, the air already beginning to shimmer and buzz with power. Tristan had been right, Merlin was indeed a powerful sorcerer. So powerful that he'd already spoken with Tristan long before they'd got the nerve up to approach him. Gawain gently caressed Galahad's cheek. He was wooly now, where he still thought of him as smooth. Where had the years gone? 

"I think I'm the one to do it. I've already see the otherworld, remember?" Galahad's grip on his arm grew tighter. "And if… well, and if we need tending… you're the one in the best shape to do it." 

"By the gods I will come after you if you fail to return to me." 

"I know. And I'm grateful." 

Gawain kissed him tenderly for only a moment. They could not waste time or waiver now. He thumped his fist over his heart and gave their battle cry. Galahad wiped his eyes quickly and gave the answering cry. They marched into the clearing to Merlin's laughter. 

"I see you are ready. Not that I'd have thought otherwise. Come, come." 

The pair moved towards him cautiously, shoulder to shoulder. Gawain swore he heard drums in the distance and the air began to feel heavy with the smell of incense, even though he could not see a censer. He didn't see or feel anyone but the three of them. He pulled Galahad closer as they stood in front of the sorcerer, taking his lover's hand and gripping it tightly. 

"We're ready." they said in unison. 

"We must be quick then. The door will be open soon and you have a long way to go. Now Gawain, I know you are making the journey. You've already touched him in the otherworld and that will make it easy to find him. You will see the path in front of you as you enter the door. You must remain on it. If you come off, you will stay with him there and Galahad here will no doubt follow you in short order. Please do not let that happen. We need you here." 

Merlin took Gawain's face between his hands and held his gaze for several moments. Gawain felt light headed as the weight of the incense in the air seemed to grow even heavier. 

"You have what I asked for?" 

Gawain held out the bag. There was a clipping of Tristan's hair, his legion disc, a bone hair pin, one of Isolde's feathers, and some precious salt. As soon as Merlin touched Isolde's feather he smiled. 

"You did not tell me he already had a guide." 

"I don't understand?" 

"I think I do." Galahad said and whistled. 

Isolde appeared moments later in a flurry of feathers and cries, landing on the stump nearest Merlin. 

"Mark her, Gawain, for she will help you in the otherworld. She may touch him, although you may not. Not with your flesh. Not until you both have passed to this side of the door. Now Galahad, take this salt and mark the edge of the circle you see here with it. I want you on the inside of it with iron drawn. None must disturb the line." 

Galahad nodded. He drew his own sword and took Gawain's weapons as well, setting them in easy reach. He shivered slightly. It felt all too close to their last stand on the ice. 

"Now Gawain, you can have no iron with you, or gold. They are still greedy in the other lands," Merlin chuckled. "I want you down to your linen. There's enough scars on you that no one will think twice about you being there." 

Gawain flushed slightly as he stripped down to his drawers. Merlin held his iron Charm that Galahad made for him and his legion disc. He left the iron ring until last. They all had them. Matching mostly. Only the dings of use and the deformation of wear marked who's was who's. He slipped if off and kissed it, placing it in Merlin's palm reverently. When he brought Tristan back they'd need to forge another. Maybe. He didn't want to think on that. He rubbed his fingers over the bracelet made from all three of their hair. Merlin smiled at him. 

"The time is near. Can you feel it." 

Gawain nodded. The air had grown even closer around him, as had the deep thumping of the drums. It almost felt like he was on the march again. 

"Here," Gawain felt the press of a bone handle in his palm. "This will clear the way should you be attacked. It's mine and I'd like it returned." 

Gawain nodded. The bone club was smooth with use and covered with well worn symbols. He could feel the power ringing in it. He hefted it to get the feel of it and took a deep breath. Already he felt himself swaying with the drums. 

"Wish me luck, thundercloud…" he whispered as he watched the dark gate open before him. 

\-- 

"Gawain!" 

Galahad barely stopped himself from crossing the line of the salt as Gawain crumpled into Merlin's arms. 

"Fear not lad. His will is strong, he'll have no trouble. Your man is also strong. Never have I had someone not of my own blood speak directly to me from the otherworld." 

Merlin lay Gawain down gently, arranging him properly for the return. He took his own cloak and placed it next to him, in preparation for their lover's return. Isolde screeched and flapped, also eager it seemed. 

"Now lad, remember. Do not cross the line. Do not let anything else cross the line. Not until I banish the circle. There will be no doubt when I have done so." 

He clapped his hands together sharply and began to chant. 

\---- 

Gawain stepped across the threshold into a land of barren grey. This was nothing like the place where he'd seen Tristan before. He looked around for his path, the wind beginning to pick up and lift the ends of his hair. He reflexively reached for his wrist and as his fingers stroked along his bracelet, the edges of a shimmering path came into view. He squared his shoulders and set out along the dull trail. 

He walked for what seemed like hours, although it could not have been. The flat greyness began to form into tall grey grasses. The wind began to whip around him so badly he had to wind his hair into a knot so he could see. Each step threatened to blow him off the narrow path. He grew angry and brandished the bone club. 

"Don't think to try the coward's way. If you want to stop me, you'll have to do it face to face!" he shouted into the swirling air. 

The wind grew very cold before it slowed. Gawain didn't allow himself to shiver even once. Show weakness before these spirits and they would use it to get you. He pushed forward, the grasses growing taller until they reached his waist. it was harder and harder to see the path before him. He could only feel it with his toes as he stepped. He used the club like a sword before him, parting the strands as he stepped. So intent was he that he didn't notice someone pacing alongside. He inhaled sharply as he realised there were two familiar men pacing him. 

"Brothers…" 

"Gawain, we did not expect to see you here." 

"No one ever expects to be here, Gareth. And we should all know better." 

"True, dear brother, true. Yet here we are." 

Gawain did not want to look at them. He feared that if he did, he'd rush off the path to them. They'd been gone for so many years already, though. And while he loved them it was not what he felt for Tristan and Galahad. 

"You've come for someone, brother. We see the magic around you. It's faint but you know how well Agravaine could see." 

"Who have you come for? We'll find her for you." 

Gawain shook his head. The path did not veer towards them, so they must not be the way to Tristan. 

"Oh come now, when were you ever shy?" teased Gareth. 

As he bit back a reply, he forgot himself and looked up. They looked at him in anger, covered in blood as the last time he'd seen them. Tears welled in his eyes. 

"You've come for someone but not us. Why not us?" they howled. 

He tried to turn away but could not. He had no answer for them. None that they'd want to hear. He loved them as family but they were not a part of his soul. 

"It couldn't be you. You'd gone on and left me. Your women made your graves and left me out of it as if they were more important than I. I see now they were right. They were of your choosing. Your bond was deep. I wasn't a part of that. Go tell them how angry you are they didn't dare come for you!" he spat. 

The wind swirled a bit less and he turned to stumble on. He blinked back the tears as their howls faded into the nothing. 

\--- 

Galahad's nerves jangled. Every rustle of a branch, every movement of a twig sent a terrible thrill through him. He knew these things cost and he also knew Gawain would pay anything, anything but Galahad's life, to have him back. He just hoped the price wasn't too dear. 

\-- 

Gawain feared who he'd see next in this place of shadow. He feared but he kept moving forward. He had to get Tristan back, there was no choice. He pressed his lips to his bracelet and prayed silently to the holder of swords that things would go well. As he stepped forward he heard the flap of wings. Before him stood a woman, elegant and powerful in a feathered cloak. Her features were sharp and she looked at him with a knowing eye. 

"Are you Isolde?" he asked, tightening his grip on the bone club. 

She smiled at him and flung the edge of her cloak around him. 

"You know I am. Come! He waits and I wish him back as much as you two." 

She pulled him close and they ran. Her eye was sharp and they didn't even look to make a wrong step. He felt light, as when he'd come here from his own wounds. He hooted in exhilaration as the grasses parted into a well kept clearing. Swords plunged into the earth marked the clearing. Gawain recognised almost all of them. These were the markers of his fellow knights and there in the middle, was a lone figure. As they approached the wind picked up. They were forced to slow, each step now a combat with the wind and dirt buffeting them from all sides. 

"Come you must take point. I will cover you with my cloak." 

As Gawain pushed forward, the winds began to take form. He gasped as he recognised the saxon warriors they'd fought on that last day. Now on more familiar ground, he used the club effectively, hacking his way through them. The stronger the spirit, the more strokes it took to defeat it. He'd forgot how strong those saxons were. His arm was growing tired as he waded through them. 

"Keep fighting! We must get him!" 

Gawain spared a glance behind and saw Isolde slash away at a saxon. Her fingers had returned to talons as she attacked those responsible for keeping Tristan from her. Gawain shouted their war cry, energising himself to continue the battle. They continued relentlessly until only one stood before them. Gawain knew him. It was the leader. The one who'd taken Tristan from him. 

"You. Out of my way." 

The thing laughed at him. Gawain felt his fury rise as it laughed. He swung at it relentlessly, letting out all the rage and hatred he'd bottled up since that day. He beat the creature one final sound blow and as it staggered back, it began to taunt him. 

"I took him. He was nothing. Nothing. And it was easy. He begged for his life. It was pathetic." 

Gawain hurled himself at the ghost, his desire for revenge bubbling up as it jeered. 

"No! Gawain, the path!" 

He caught onto the edge of her cloak barely before stepping onto the grey dust of the clearing. They watched as the saxon crumpled into a million motes of dust and blew away. She pulled him tight against her chest and calmed him with soft meaningless words. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he was shaking in her arms. He'd almost failed them and the thought of what he'd have lost nearly overwhelmed him. 

"We're almost there Gawain. He is nearly with us. Come on, let's finish the task." 

Gawain closed his eyes and nodded. As she steadied him he kissed her cheek. 

"Please don't claw me for that…" he smiled a bit as she laughed. 

"No, I won't. I like you. Perhaps I will let you take me out of a day once we return." 

"If he lets me I will." 

He looked around. there seemed no more attackers, but he still brandished the club. His arms felt tired again. They needed to hurry. He trotted carefully along the path until Tristan came clearly into view. He forced himself not to rush forward, wary of anymore tricks. The path clearly ended at Tristan's feet, but he was unmoving and unseeing. He was naked, save for his tattoos and he stood with his arms out as if in supplication. By reflex Gawain reached forward, only just checking himself. 

"He seems elsewhere…" 

Tristan's eyes were white, as if rolled back in his head. His mouth seemed to be moving and as Gawain forced his attention on the words, he could hear Merlin's voice and drums. As if by it's own will, the bone club moved his arm up and he touched Tristan at the base of his throat with the tip of it. As soon as bone met flesh, Tristan's eyes came back into focus. 

"Oaf! And Isolde. I'm flattered." 

His smile was broad and he gazed on Gawain until they were both embarrassed by the amount of emotion they felt. Tristan let his fingers caress the tip of the club suggestively until Gawain snorted and turned his head to hide the blush. Isolde clicked her teeth sharply and pushed at Tristan. 

"Later for that, oh master mine. You two need to get out of here." 

"Agreed, dear pet. Gawain, we should run. Can you see the path clearly?" 

Gawain looked down and shook his head. The path was wavering before his eyes. 

"Oaf can you see it? I won't be able to help here." 

Gawain brought his bracelet to his lips again. Even brushing his lips along the braid he could tell how their different hair entwined. It was just as they should be, together and entwined. He would get them out of here. He must. He'd run as if the lady of the horses were chasing them. He opened his eyes and the path formed before him. It glowed with gold and silver and midnight. 

"Oh I can see it alright. Hold on, old man, we're running now!" 

Isolde hooted and shot into the air, returning to her bird form. Gawain looked deep into Tristan's eyes and shouted "We're Coming Thundercloud!" Together they shouted the battle cry and dashed forward. They ran as if chased. Gawain knew they would be. They had to be. This place would not give up it's possessions easily. But neither would Gawain. 

As they ran he heard hooves. he didn't dare look back for fear of what he'd see. He just kept his eyes to the light and ran. 

"Oaf we have company!" 

The thundering of hooves surrounded them. He spared a look and saw Lancelot and Dagonet. The tears that came to his eyes nearly made him stumble. 

"Keep moving you lucky bastard! or I'll haunt you!" shouted Lancelot. 

There was a terrible noise behind them. Fear spurred him forward. He thought he saw the curve of the door and shouted it to Tristan. 

"I can't see it. I trust you to do so." 

‘It's there! It's there. Come on, Tristan hold tight!" 

They barrelled forward to the sounds of harsh roaring and Dagonet crowing in joy. 

"Don't mind the demons, Gawain, we have them. Now get out!" 

He could feel their horses rearing behind as he yanked Tristan through the shimmering portal in front of them. 

\--- 

Galahad whirled as something came crashing out of nowhere. It smelled of brimstone and screamed at an unearthly pitch. He cried out and swung without a second thought. As he sliced through it the iron of his sword glowed. He backed away as the fallen parts scrambled towards him. He screamed in terror as he hacked it into tiny bits. As soon as he dispatched the first one, two more appeared, flying out of a growing dark forming in the centre of the circle. They were hideous, like the demons of their childhood stories. He plucked up Gawain's ax and got between Merlin and the gibbering things, swinging for all he was worth. They took a lot of killing. 

"Merlin! Merlin!" he cried, "get behind me!" 

Merlin did not move. A wind began to howl out of the opening door, kicking up dirt and leaves. It swirled wildly around Merlin as he chanted, the howling growing louder as the door grew more solid. As they burst through, Galahad was torn until one moved towards Gawain's inert form. He leapt for it swinging as he heard two familiar shouts. 

"Out of the way, boy!" Lancelot shouted as he swept past, swords singing through the thick air. 

Dagonet and Lancelot poured out of the blackness weapons drawn and howling. They ran down two of the creatures as Galahad hewed at the third. It wouldn't go down no matter how he chopped into it. 

"No!" he shouted as he got between the thing and Gawain. "NO!" It clawed at him, rending his armour but screaming at the touch of the iron. He tried to get out of its reach but fell. 

"Ours!" 

Lancelot and Dagonet descended upon it, hacking it to bits. 

"Our time is short, lad. Is Bors well?" Dagonet's voice still carried far. Even in death. 

"Bors is well. And a married man now. He pours a draught for you every night. He misses you." 

Bors smiled and cuffed Lancelot. 

"How is Arthur?" 

"He grieves still." 

"Does he?" A dark eyebrow raised. "Well let Tristan have a word with him and we'll see if he'll come for me like Gawain did for Tristan." 

Lancelot nudged Dagonet as Galahad realised what he'd fallen over. 

"Tristan!" he breathed. 

"Goodbye lad. Take care of him. And the other. They need watching." 

"Thank you, I... " Galahad tried to stand but Dagonet held out his hand. 

"We have to go. Be safe Galahad. I don't want to see any of you again for a long time. Come, Lancelot, the door closes." 

They jumped back through the door and saluted as it closed. 

"Fuck..." 

Gawain gasped a lung full of air and flailed his arms out. He clutched onto Galahad's arm and pulled him close. 

"Is he out? Tell me he's out!" Gawain coughed. 

"I'm out, oaf," Tristan breathed. 

Both Gawain and Galahad grabbed at him and held him close. 

"You're warm," Gawain sobbed, winding his hands into Tristan's braids, rocking them both gently. 

Tristan took Galahad's hand and kissed his palm. 

"Thank you, my love, but you should watch Merlin. We may not yet be clear and Gawain and I have nothing left." 

Galahad nodded and quickly covered Tristan with Merlin's cloak before hefting his weapons and returning to Merlin's side. 

"Merlin, are you all right?" he whispered. 

A low hum began to rise from the floor of the clearing. Everything metal began to resonate along with it as it grew in volume. Galahad covered his ears as the noise grew, his head growing painful. All their weapons began to shimmer and float as the noise grew, filling in the atmosphere of the circle. Galahad screamed just as Merlin's hands came sharply together and everything dropped, all now silent. 

"What was that?" Galahad shouted, his ears still ringing. 

Merlin laughed at him. "I told you it would be plain when I banished the circle." 

\-----  
end 2013 


End file.
